Before Happily
by IttyBittyWriter
Summary: The plant was destroyed, the shop in ruins, but this isn't quite the end. SeymourxAudrey drabble.
1. Wash away the past

**Hi friends. Long time no write-the semester caught up with me quickly. But anywhere, here's Before Happily**** , or as I like to call it, "A Friendly Reminder that No Matter How the Story Ends, Audrey is Still Half-Masticated by a Giant Plant."**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Never have, never will.**

_(Author's Note: I couldn't really find a way to get these into the story without it sounding awkward, so here are the details you should know: 1- I've slightly altered the Theatrical Ending for this-Audrey still lives (obviously) but the plant still tells her about "her dentist friend and Mushnik." 2- In my mind, the wounds are in that semi-unnamed area between the small of the back and the hips and wrap around the sides a little. So yeah)_

There was urgency in all of Seymour's kisses—not forceful, no, but he kissed her because he needed to, as if he would fall apart without it. He pressed his lips to hers, eager to feel her, be sure she was still there after everything that had happened today. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back with all her love, ready to help him in whatever way he needed—after all, he'd saved her twice over: today, from the plant, and quite a few weeks back, when he did what he needed to keep Orin from hurting her. They stood amidst the ruin and the rubble of the old flower show, limbs entwined, searching for comfort, catharsis, after all that had transpired.

He moved his hands from the small of her back to her side, forgetting that was where the plant had bitten her, which made Audrey wince and break the kiss, sucking in air through her teeth. Seymour immediately jumped back. "I'm sorry!" he cried, "I forgot all about that I'm just so happy you're alright that I—"

"It's okay, Seymour," she said, smiling at him through her pain. She twisted her body to look once more at her wounds—she'd forgotten them too, until he touched them. "Can we go back to my place so we can clean up?" she asked. He nodded, taking her hand, and the two of them crossed the street, leaving their destroyed place of employment behind them.

Audrey tried to reach her hands around to her back to unzip her gown, but she met with pain no matter how she turned her arms. She bit her lip, stifling a cry, and then asked Seymour, "Could you help me with my zipper?"

Seymour crossed to her and slowly slid the zipper down her back. She let the dress fall down her body before stepping out of it, standing in only her slip and pantyhose. There were clear tears in the slip at her sides, with red stains around them, proof that her being trapped inside the Audrey II was not just a bad dream. Her wounds had scabbed over; thankfully they weren't too deep, but she was sure they'd leave scars. Audrey picked up her gown from the floor and laid it on her bed before stepping out of her heels and walking toward her bathroom. "I'll be real quick," she assured Seymour, "there ain't much in the kitchen, but you can have whatevah you want." Seymour nodded and sat down on her tiny loveseat, unable to stop reliving the day past.

Audrey quickly discarded the clothes she had left and turned on the shower, waiting for a steady stream of hot water before stepping in, letting the water wash everything away. The hot water was soothing at first, but once it trickled down to her sides, onto her wounds, pain seeped in. She sped through her shower, then wrapped her robe around her and brushed out her hair, saving herself the trouble of putting a dress or nightgown on top of her wounds.


	2. Just get through tonight

**Welcome back! Here's the second part to my little drabble. Enjoy!**

Guilt. Guilt was all that Seymour could feel, despite his relief. He'd never do anything wrong again, he swore, but it was too late. He nearly lost Audrey today. _She shouldn't be stuck with a creep like me, anyway._ Orin, he rationalized, he deserved it—he didn't even feel that bad about that. Mr. Mushnik—he was like a father, and he didn't deserve to die, but—well, he wasn't a very nice man either. But Audrey: Audrey was an angel, pure and sweet, who'd already had so much unfairness thrown at her in life. He promised he'd never hurt her, yet here he was: his plant had half-devoured her. _She'll be scarred. She'll be scared of me, and rightly so. I should leave. I should get up and go and get out of Audrey's life before I do something else to-_

"Seymour?" he heard a timid voice call from the bathroom.

"Yeah?" he replied. Audrey emerged, her robe draped around her form, and crossed to him. "I, uh…" she trailed off before finding the right words. "I need some help putting a bandage on…Do—do ya mind?"

Seymour gulped, almost unable to believe she wanted his help after he caused those gashes in her side, but he nodded. She led him to the bathroom with her, where a rather impressive first aid kit was seated on the sink. "I put some alcohol on them, but I can't wrap the bandage. Could you?" she asked. He nodded again, picking up the bandages from the kit as Audrey untied the sash on her waist and let it fall to just below her hips, her face turning furiously red.

Seymour knelt just behind her, so he could fully see the gashes that dug into her sides, scabbed over but deep, deeper than he'd expected. He wrapped the bandage gingerly around her hips, careful not to put on any more pressure than necessary. He was struck, not by the severity of her wounds, but by the several—dozens, even-other scars that cut across her back. Some were jagged, probably not premeditated, but others looked as though they were sliced precisely, and Seymour had a hunch as to whose scalpel cut those numerous thin, white marks into her. Fury welled up in Seymour's chest, both at the men, if they could be called that, who had so purposefully scarred his angel, and at himself—for adding to her collection, even if he hadn't meant it.

When the wounds were covered up, he taped the covering in place. Then, hoping it wasn't too bold, Seymour softly kissed one of her scars, one that Orin had left, before rising from the floor and wrapping the robe back around her. Audrey quickly tied the sash around her waist, her face still flush and her eyes growing wet. From behind her still, Seymour folded his arms around her waist, mindful of the wounds he'd just wrapped. The guilt was still in Seymour's mind, but if she needed comfort, he wanted to be there for her, to start his penance and earn her love again.

Audrey blinked back the tears that tried to escape, willing herself to be strong, and said "thank you" in a voice barely louder than a whisper. Secretly, she was grateful not to have to look him in the eye. No matter how much she wanted—needed—his arms around her, Audrey broke from the embrace, picking up a nightgown she'd brought in with her. Seymour took the hint, leaving the room quietly and sinking back into his spot on the loveseat.

Now clad in her white nightgown, short and hung loosely on her thin frame, Audrey reappeared. She crossed the room and sat just next to Seymour on the loveseat, still embarrassed. Seymour wrapped an arm around her and slid her so she was half next to him and half on his lap, her legs entangled in his. She immediately buried her head in his chest, clinging to his shirt, and he hugged her tightly against him, a hand softly caressing her still-wet hair while the other rested on her ribcage just beneath her chest, careful to avoid her wounds. "Sorry you had to see that," she muttered.

Seymour was taken aback; after what had happened to her, both today and in her past, _she_ was apologizing? Tears welled up in his eyes; she'd nearly died today, and still she sought to protect his feelings. He held her closer, trying to force his tears back, and kissed the top of her head. His body was shaking he was trying so hard not to break down in front of her.

Audrey pulled her head back to look at him. "Seymour, are you alright?" she asked delicately, worried she'd scared or upset him. A tear broke from his eyes and trickled down his cheek; "I've done terrible things, but not to you, never to you."

She smiled gently back at him; "I know," she said, sinking back into his embrace, which made him more upset. "I'm—I'm a monster, Audrey. I'm no better than _it, _or_ him_. You…you should stay away from me…" he was hysterical. He had done terrible, awful things—she realized this. But his distress was, in a morbid way, comforting; the fact that he felt guilt, as painful as it was for him, meant that he _wasn't_ the monster he thought himself to be. Not knowing how else to tell him, Audrey softly planted a kiss to his lips, silencing his hysterics. Her lips lingered on his until he stopped his shaking, but he broke away to pull her into a close embrace; he hoped that holding Audrey now would replace the feeling he'd never forget, of holding her limp and nearly lifeless as he dragged from the mouth of Audrey II.

It worked, in some ways. As they sat in silence wrapped in each other's arms, Seymour allowed himself to rejoice that she was alive and that she continued to accept him and even love him, and Audrey allowed herself to be enveloped by someone who liked her, maybe loved her, scars and all.

In the back of their minds, both knew that they'd have nightmares that night, and for many nights to come. Audrey knew she wouldn't be able to lie comfortably for a while, and Seymour knew he couldn't stop the guilt that was lurking in his chest, but for that moment, they let themselves be comforted by the person they loved and put aside their anxieties and fears for just a little longer.

**End note: as of now, this story stands alone, but I might expand it later. If I do, there will suddenly be more chapters. Thanks for reading!**


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